Half-Term Shenanigans in Dublin and Bristol

Hello all,

First off, isn't 'shenanigans' just the best word? I realized it's been over a month since my last entry. I suppose sometimes life happens, and doesn't always leave time for timely blogging. However, since it's a post-term-break week, work is a bit slow... I don't have work until the afternoon and blogging doesn't involve leaving my bed so here I am!

Over the half-term break, I was lucky enough to have my mom come to visit me all the way from good old Newmarket, Ontario. It was the first time I've seen any family since moving here all the way back in September, and I was excited to show her around -- it was her first time in England, well all of Europe technically! So I had to cram as much into the week as possible. It also gave me a chance to re-experience Bristol as a tourist.

Last time Beth and I had a guest visit, it was gross and pouring rain and windy the whole time, so half of our plans fell through (sorry, Charlotte). Well, Bristol did not hold back on the rain and wind on the first day my mom arrived either. Honestly, it was a pretty realistic welcome to England -- thanks a lot, Storm Imogen. Considering all this, we went somewhere really cosy for brunch on the first day: Cosy Club. This place really drove home the point that almost no matter where you go in Bristol, hipster-esque or not, you will most likely find a vegan or at least vegetarian friendly breakfast.

(Photo from TripAdvisor, no credit to me)

Like, look at this place. Looks really nice and posh -- nothing hippie to be seen: no blenders with remnants of kale smoothies, no chalkboard listing the craft beers on tap, no community artwork adorning the walls. And yet, they have a WHOLE MENU for vegan (and gluten free) options. Including this beautiful breakfast. Two for you, Cosy Club. You go Cosy Club.

Beans. Toast. Hummus. Potatoes. Peppers. Greens. Tomato.

We also browsed around Cabot Circus -- Bristol's lovely "Is it indoor? Is it outdoor? How is this place even laid out?" shopping centre (which is actually quite nice). My mom fell in love with Tiger, a shop originally from Denmark that can be described in a word as "quirky" and in several more words "everything has faces on it" and "this is adorable/hilarious, I never knew I needed it until now". We bought a pack of chocolate covered rice cakes solely because the packaging had rice cakes with little moustaches and glasses on the outside.

At night, I took my mom out for her first British pub experience on King Street -- a cobblestone paved stretch of Bristol that is always packed with pub-goers on a Friday or Saturday night. Luckily, it was relatively quiet on a Monday, though still lively. We first stopped at The King William -- a really comfy and traditional feeling pub dating back to 1670.


We made our way to the river and checked out The Apple: A cider pub located on a moored boat. I mean, come on. You can't visit Bristol and not drink cider on a boat. The small two-level pub was packed despite it being a Monday, never mind the gale force winds and rain of Storm Imogen that had been battering the city. I mean, I suppose we still went out but...

The Apple

The next day was thankfully bright and sunny, so we set out for a full day of adventuring. We took a little walk around my neighbourhood through Arno's Vale park, and took a roundabout path to Arno's Vale cemetery -- one of my favourite places in Bristol. Yes, it's a cemetery, but it's also like a really big park with ivy-wrapped gravestones that look like nature is trying to reclaim them.

(Full disclosure -- photos from another day, because I was lazy about taking any this time.)

Afterwards, we briefly walked through St Nick's Market (part covered, part uncovered daily market in town, home to many delicious smells) and ended up busing to Cafe Kino. This vegan co-op cafe actually does look super hippie, and is located in the Stokes Croft neighbourhood. My mom commented that looking out the window felt like sitting on Queen Street West in Toronto. I ate my veggie burger too quickly to take a photo apparently, but mom got the small vegan brekky and even enjoyed the veggie sausage!!

ALL of the vegan breakfasts.

From there, we ventured up to Clifton Suspension Bridge. I've been there a couple times now, but the views over Bristol are still amazing. We also walked through Ashton Court Estate -- once home to some very rich folks presumably, but now a historic mansion and massive park that also happens to be home to many deer. We didn't spend a ton of time here as the rain was beginning to roll in... also, it was super muddy from last night's storm, and my idea to take a shortcut off the main path resulted in me slipping and falling and getting my whole leg covered in mud. Nice. Well done, me.

Bridge.

Manor.

After a lovely dinner at Curry House, we had plans to visit my OTHER favourite place in Bristol: The Bag of Nails! If you are friends with me on any form of social media, you have probably seen me excitedly posting pictures of this place already. Basically, it's this little tiny pub that looks pretty unremarkable from the outside, but then you wander in and realize that CATS LIVE HERE. LIKE 15 CATS. They hang out on the pub in boxes and weave around your legs as you enjoy a pint or take part in the pub quiz on a Tuesday night, as we did. If you know me at all, I don't need to explain why this is so exciting.

Mom, cat, background lurker.

Cat being a jerk to other cat.

The next morning, we were up bright and seriously early to catch a flight to Dublin, Ireland! It still feels really amazing to be able to take a quick 45 minute flight and be in a whole new country with different sights and culture. But I suppose it doesn't take much to amaze me, considering I was pretty excited about these weird coffee cups on the plane that filter the coffee for you! Whaaaat.

Sippy cup for adults?

Bye Bristol!

It's also amazing when you book a hostel and it turns out to be super nice. I highly reccommend the Generator Hostel. Dublin is still an expensive city, but I found that I got much better value for the price of the stay than at similarly priced London or Oxford hostels. I also recommend carefully reading reviews on Hostelworld before booking. I did, and most sounded really favourable and I was not disappointed. 

Sewwww hip.

Fancy chandeliers + pool.

How cute is the wall art in the room?

We had lunch in Dublin at a slightly unconventional place -- it was not a traditional Irish breakfast, but a moroccan style meal at a cute restaurant called Brother Hubbard that boasted fresh, local ingredients. I am mildly obsessed with food, so I pride myself on being able to quickly and efficiently scope out a nearby, affordable and veggie-friendly restaurant on short notice. However, I did not stick strictly to my usual vegan diet in Dublin -- I give myself some leeway when travelling. There's only a certain amount of my life that I can devote to worrying about eggs, and on holiday is not one of those times.

 

Food.

Cute semi-patio type deal.

Afterwards, we walked around and saw Christ Church Cathedral (mostly the outside as we didn't want to pay to wander around inside), Dublin Castle, and a wonderful little place called Chester Beatty Library. It's less a library and more a museum dedicated to really old and fascinating books, also including a peaceful rooftop garden. We also found some cute outfits at a charity shop near the hostel, because obviously we had to look. 

Old and gold books.

This makes me so mad.. how is this even humanly possible...

Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. So cool.

The inside of the museum/library.

For dinner that evening, we decided upon the oldest pub in Ireland (go old or go home I suppose). It's called The Brazen Head and looks pretty much as close to an old Irish pub as you could imagine. Warming up by the fire with a hot bowl of soup, some thick-cut chips and a cold Guinness? Amazing. I could tell that this was a popular tourist destination, as the majority of accents overheard were of the North American variety.

Everything is so old here...in a good way.

Do you believe in love at first sight? I do.

Dublin in the early evening.

Speaking of fellow tourists, a hostel can be a great place to make new friends. It can also be a reminder of just how small of a world we live in. In our 6-person female dorm, I met a girl from Ottawa as well as an Australian who is -- weirdly enough -- also a supply teacher in Bristol. Mom was a bit tired and jet lagged, but I got chatting with the fellow Canadian, and we soon had plans to check out the Temple Bar area, a famous stretch of pubs well-known for it's party atmosphere.

Instant Canadian friends.

We chatted, danced to Irish music, and ended up out just sliiiightly later than intended. However, the Temple Bar area definitely lives up to its reputation and is tons of fun. 

Mumford and Sons, is that you??

Sup, Guinness factory?

The next morning, I was... a bit tired, to say the least, but my mom and I still checked out the hop-on-hop-off bus tour. There are a couple different tour bus companies in town, but definitely go with the one that includes three free drinks at various locations... that is, if you didn't party a bit too hard the night before. The tour showed us just how small Dublin really is, but how packed it is with history -- Trinity College, Oscar Wilde's house, Phoenix Park (where the Prime Minister lives), and the Guinness Storehouse are among the sights that you will see. Mom and I went back to the Temple Bar district that evening, and this time she outlasted me for energy -- I sat at the bar drinking tea like the old lady I am.


The next day, we flew back to Bristol and had a pretty relaxed day. After making dinner at home, we met up with Beth for a drink and some food in the City Centre. It was a Friday night, and apparently, both the St. Nick's Night Market and a BBC music festival were happening downtown. We ended up at Walkabout -- an Aussie themed restaurant and pub that is now probably my mom's favourite place due to it's half-price-everything happy hour. We were also reminded of what a friendly city Bristol can be -- we didn't realize that the bus stop we were waiting at was closed due to construction, but a nice couple gave the three of us a ride home. Gotta love random kind strangers!

On Saturday, we hit up a vintage clothing fair near my house, and wandered up Park Street -- where Bristol University lives, along with many cute shops and restaurants. Beside Bristol Uni is also the Bristol Museum of Art and Natural History, home to many interesting things including a bird that looks like Donald Trump.

Vintage clothes EVERYWHERE <3

Trump-bird.

We also used a lost pair of gloves as an excuse to make one more visit to our feline friends at the Bag of Nails pub. We did not find the gloves, but we did find a couple of pints, so there's that.

With her bag bursting with British sweets, my Mom left for Toronto on Sunday -- the final day of half-term break. To sum up my thoughts on the week:

1. Having family visit is really nice. I hadn't seen any of them since I'd left and I was really glad that my Mom got the opportunity to visit. Now to figure out getting the rest of them over here...

2. Travel is exhausting. With all of the things I crammed into our week, I felt like I needed a second break after my break to just sleep.

3. I highly recommend being a tourist in your own town every now and then. This was the first real chance that I had to show someone around Bristol, which at this point, is pretty familiar to me. It's really nice to see things through a tourist's eyes again and get excited about the little differences between UK and Canada all over again (like the fact that everything here is SO OLD AND HISTORIC). Bristol has a ton to offer, so anyone from home who may be reading this -- come visit me. For reals. I will make you see all of the things and you WILL have fun.

That's all for now, have a great weekend friends! Unless you are reading this and it's no longer the weekend, in which case, have a good Tuesday or whatever (I've got a 1/5 chance of getting this right, it's worth a shot).

Cheers,


C.

Early Years: Where the Good are Really Good & the Bad Still Sing You Showtunes.

I always find it funny when someone tells me that they can't imagine me being strict as a teacher, or ask me whether I have a "teacher voice". I'm soft-spoken by nature, and admittedly, I always imagined myself as being the "nice teacher". But I learned very quickly that being "nice" does not equate to a smoothly running classroom -- you have to set up clear expectations, rewards and consequences, and continuously enforce them. Otherwise, you can be as nice as you want, but the kids won't hear your "niceness" over the sound of the complete and utter chaos that will most likely ensue.

As far as teacher voices go, I am still working on that perfect tone that falls somewhere between "Please walk all over me" and "You will hear this voice in your nightmares". However, I think it's more accurate to say that there are different kinds of "teacher voices" that I use on a daily basis. For instance, I wouldn't use the same tone with a misbehaving nursery student that I would with a year 4, or I could be crossing into "nightmare fuel" territory really quickly.

Since being back from Christmas Break, I've spent a lot of time with the younger grades -- Nursery, Reception and Year One. And honestly? It's been nice. I get to use my kind, gentle voice and rarely have to raise it. Also, young kids are quite honestly hilarious because they don't yet realize how funny they are being sometimes. I've been keeping some jot notes on my phone of the adorable things that kids have said or done in the past two weeks. Here are some examples:

• Year One: It's interesting to see the difference between a "troublemaker" in the younger grades versus the older. There's a boy in one Year One class that I have been to many times who always seems to get himself into trouble -- my Teaching Assistant warned me that he had been acting out more than usual that week, so I should prepare myself. The offending student walked into the classroom -- a tiny freckled red-haired boy with a voice that constantly sounds like he has a stuffy nose, which makes him sound even more adorable. As soon as he sees me, he gives me a hug and tells me he missed me. Then he says "Miss Hoffman, I have a song for you -- listen to my song!" and then launches into "Tomorrow" from Annie, but the only words he knows are "Tomorrow, tomorrow! I love ya, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow..." He sings his little heart out and all I can think is "This is the worst behaved student in the class, and he's singing me show tunes... I'm okay with this."
  
• Reception: I stand by my belief that kids telling jokes are the best thing. Here is one from a boy in reception: "Knock knock! (Who's there?) Justin! (Justin who?) A REALLY GRUMPY BANANA!!!" A grumpy banana... why didn't I think of that? Brilliant.
  
  
  



An artistic rendering of Justin.

• Nursery: Near the end of the day, the playground inexplicably smelled like food. A little girl noticed, and came up to me and said "I want pizza." I told her "Me too, if you find any, let me know." She proceeded to spend the entire rest of outdoor time following me around, saying "I want pizza..." in a quiet, sad voice every few minutes. I feel ya, sister. You are all of us.
  
• Nursery: There is a little boy in nursery who I lovingly refer to as "Hulk Kid" because he is obsessed with the Hulk and wears an Avengers jumper basically every day that I've seen him. Here are some Hulk Kid moments:
  
  HK: "Did you know, I met the Avengers??"
  Me: "Really? What did you do when you met them?"
  HK: "I gave the Hulk a hug, because I like the Hulk."
  
  Precious. Also:
  
  HK: "I'm gonna SMASH the Avengers!"
  Me: "I thought they were good guys?"
  HK: "No, they're bad guys."
  Me: "So if the Avengers are bad guys, then who are the good guys?"
  HK: *thinks about it* "My mummy and papa"
  (Of course.)
   
• Nursery: A little girl was playing in the sand tray with a toy dinosaur and a toy pony. She buried the dinosaur in the sand. "I'm burying him because he died", she tells me. Okay, cool, little kids are trying to understand the concept of dying, whatever. Later, she is burying the pony too. "He died too" she tells me, "Because he loved the dinosaur so much". Okay...this is turning into a sandbox version of Romeo and Juliet starring a dinosaur and a pony and I am not sure how I feel about this.
  
• Year One: We had an activity where the students had to introduce themselves to the circle by jumping up, saying their name, and an animal that they wanted to be (e.g. I'm Holly and I'm a lion!) However, somewhere down the line, the students decided that  being inanimate objects was much cooler than being animals and so it turned into: "I'm Ollie and I'm a piece of jelly!!" "I'm Lily and I'm a stick!" "I'm Aaron and I'm a cucumber!" But my favourite was: "I'm Logan, and I'm a shower!!!" *does shower noises* (quietly) "I like being a shower." ...Hey, you do you, kid.
  
• Nursery: In the morning, we listened to the song "There Was an Old Lady who Swallowed a Fly", which contains the line "Perhaps she'll die". After lunch, I overheard a conversation between one very concerned little girl and a teacher. "Why does she die??" "It's just part of the song, darling, it just rhymes with fly". "...But why does she die?" says the little girl, with the saddest expression on her face. We had to spend a few minutes reassuring this poor little sensitive soul that the little old lady was okay, despite swallowing a fly, and that she did not in fact die.
  
• Reception: We were listening to a Disney CD, and "A Whole New World" from Aladdin was playing.
  Me: "Aladdin and Jasmine sing this song!"
  Girl 1: "They're in love!"
  Girl 2: "Eww that's yucky."
  Girl 1: "No, love is not yucky, it's good!"
  Me: "...You're both right."
  
• Nursery: There are some girls that I have played hide-and-seek with a couple times during outdoor time, which was apparently a mistake -- The leader of this little pack now comes outside and upon seeing me, runs past me and yells "YOU COUNT!" No "Hello". No "Let's play hide-and-seek". Like, come on guys, I have feelings too, am I just a human hide-and-go-seek machine to you?? ...But yeah, okay, 10..9...8...
  
• Nursery: There are a few children with special needs who attend the nursery, and sometimes they will inadvertently do something that another child doesn't like because they don't understand the rules yet. To which the teachers will say something like "It's okay, he didn't mean to upset you, he's still learning." But what's really great is that the kids have picked up on this. One of the boys was doing something he shouldn't, so I reminded him: "Don't do that please!" and another kid instantly defended him with "That's Harry, he's learning". How great is that? These kids don't fully understand the concept of sharing, and yet, they can comprehend that some kids might learn differently, and that they should advocate for them. So important.

That concludes this episode of "Early Years Moments". If you're reading this -- have a great weekend, eat lots of pizza, and try not to be a grumpy banana!


C.

AdFRENCHures in Paris (Sorry. I am so sorry for that title).

When my friend Katrina -- currently working as an Au Pair in Paris -- messaged me asking what I was doing for Christmas, and if I would like to come visit her, I was mildly relieved. Okay, I was very relieved.

For a while, it had felt a bit like everyone I knew was going home to visit family -- something I decided was not the most financially wise idea for myself at the time. I had visions of spending the whole holiday season alone in Bristol, bingeing on Oreos, wine and Netflix. Luckily, I was not alone in deciding to stick around for the holidays, and I eagerly booked my flight to spend Christmas in Paris with my friend from uni.

Except somehow, I accidentally booked my flight out of Cardiff not Bristol and only realized this two days before flying out. I had a brief window of panic time before realizing EVERYTHING IS SUPER CLOSE IN THE UK. ITS GOING TO BE FINE. Booking a flight out of the wrong country is not as devastating an error as it would have been back home, since Wales is only an hour's train ride out of Bristol.

My time spent in Cardiff was very short, but I managed to find a vegetarian cafe to grab a coffee and lunch, and learned that the Welsh language is not super keen on vowels.

Like this sign for instance. I am sure that Welsh is a beautiful language but to my untrained eye, it looks like someone started typing up the sign, but then their cat walked across the keyboard and hit "send to print" by accident. Much respect if you can understand this language. (Also if you ever watch a documentary about Cardiff Airport and see a girl that looks like me, looking bored and eating a granola bar, ITS ME, HI).

When I arrived in Paris, my first order of business was the same as usual: Find food. I had a few hours before Katrina got back from her own travels, so I decided to walk in the direction of her train station and scope out some dinner on the way. Easy enough, right? WRONG. For a few reasons:

1. I am mostly vegan. France is mostly not. 
2. It's France. Everything is in French. All of my hard earned menu-scanning-for-veggie-option skills are useless here.
3. It's dark. 
4. My bag is really heavy and I am getting hangry, which is essentially turning me into an irritable she-Hulk. Hanger is real. Do not trust anyone who tells you otherwise.

Everything was going terribly. My back hurt. I couldn't find anywhere to eat. I tried to press the pedestrian crossing button only to realize those don't exist here and I had just been awkwardly patting a very low traffic light.

Finally, I find a restaurant near the station that seems vaguely "American Themed" and there is a veggie burger on the menu. The host says something. What did he just say? Is he talking to me? I am pretty sure he is talking to me but it's in French and my reaction time is off and now it's too late to reply without sounding weird so I am just going to pretend like I didn't hear him. "Bon soir..?" He repeats again, clearly not convinced by my strategy. "Bon soir" I mumble back. Good! I have successfully said words! But why isn't he saying more words? Is it still my turn? Oh god, what do I say now? "Juste pour moi" I manage, and soon I am seated at a table by the window. Success!

                                                Fries, not chips! At least some things are familiar here.                                                

I order a veggie burger and fries and it tastes amazing, though I ate it pretty quickly and still have time to kill. "Un cafe, s'il vous plait!" I ask the waitress, thinking that I can at least slowly and leisurely enjoy a coffee while waiting for Katrina's train. Wrong again. When the waitress returns with my coffee, all I can think is "What is this... A coffee for ANTS???" It was not a coffee for ants. The default coffee beverage in France is just espresso. By the end of my dinner, I had several other mini-crises such as "do I tip here??" (no) and "How do I ask for the bill??" (L'addition s'il vous plait) but all in all it went okay and I was soon able to meet up with Katrina at the station.

At that point, it had gotten quite late, so we chat a bit before heading to bed. The next day, I am awoken by the most beautiful words one can hear early in the morning: "I'm going to go pick us up something for breakfast!" When Katrina returns carrying a brown paper bag, she excitedly tells me: "This never happens! When I went to the bakery and asked for croissants, they were just coming out of the oven... they're still warm!"

All the squishy, oily grocery store croissants I've ever had at home pale in comparison to this piece of beauty. It was warm and perfectly flaky and crumbly. I probably could have gone home satisfied with my trip at this point, but we had a full day of sightseeing ahead of us -- so I brushed the crumbs off of

my clothes and got ready to go.

We went to the Arc du Triomphe, and I got to go up it for free as a UK resident... which was amazing because I wasn't even aware that it was something that you could go up. A long spiralling staircase rewarded us with the most amazing panoramic view of the city.

Next, we walked the Champs D'Elysee -- the street shown in the black and white photo with the big ferris wheel at the end. This street was extremely busy, filled with extravagant and expensive shops, as well as about a million different movie theatres. There was also a Christmas Market going on at the end which was nice, but a bit busy. Christmas markets are really a thing here in Europe -- I assume it started in Germany as they are all vaguely German themed.

Tiny santa in pursuit of tiny dog. 

Chocolate pears.. Also known as CUTEST THING EVER

Can they chocolate it?? Yes they can.

Hot Christmas orange juice anyone?

Beauty in it's purest form.

Wow.. a shop where I can buy Floppy... 

AND Flooppy! All in the same place! What a world we live in.

At the end of the market, we found ourselves in front of a very large ferris wheel. I had to google "Big ferris wheel in Paris" just now to figure out the real name, which incidentally is "Le Grand Roue de Paris"... so basically, the Big Wheel of Paris. I suppose that's accurate at least, it is big, a wheel, and in Paris.

The wheel looking old-timey.

Place de Concorde

Place where you can sit and chill and watch seagulls doing seagull things

We went to "Jeu de Paumes", a photography museum which was super cool -- especially the exhibition on Philippe Halsmann and Salvador Dali... dudes made some crazy photos without using Photoshop. We also somehow sat down and accidentally watched almost an hour of some artsy film because it was so weird that we needed to find out what was going on. An hour later all we had was "Something...about war.. maybe?"

Jumping for joy at the photography museum?

That night, we went out to a pub (British themed, I felt right at home) and I successfully spoke French to some French people (for about 5 minutes before they took pity and switched to English). I was still really proud of my efforts.

The next day we were up bright and early. By bright I mean, "woah, there's actually sun here in the winter unlike England". We went to see Notre Dame and were met there with a long line that Katrina assured me is actually short compared to usual. Here, and at basically any tourist attraction we went to, the entry process was slowed considerably because everyone had to open their coats and purses for security. Katrina noted that this was not the case when she first arrived -- a sobering reminder that we were in a city that had been the target of terrorist attacks just a month ago. 

We climbed up the stairs (SO MANY), saw gargoyles, bells, and a beautiful view of the city. Apparently Notre Dame is so well  restored today largely because of Victor Hugo's novel The Hunchback of Notre Dame -- his writing essentially convinced people that it was worth preserving and saved the church from demolition. How badass is that? 

Sometimes in life, you see a bell and have to touch it.

Notre Daaaamn that's a nice view.

My quest for a good old Americano coffee continued and I figured McDonalds was about as Americano as it gets. On the menu I saw "Cafe Grand" and I thought "Good! A big coffee! This is exactly what I want." Unfortunately, it was not exactly what I wanted...

In what world is this "un grand cafe"??

We stopped by Shakespeare and Company -- an amazingly cute and quaint bookstore with a little reading nook. The inside was covered with scribbles, doodles and photos from people who had passed through the store.

The pun was not lost on me.

Later that day, we went to the Centre Pompidou -- the outside of the building was cool enough, but the inside was full of amazingly weird and wacky modern art. Some examples of which are below:

Interactive chalk walled room!

Perfectly size-ordered spheres!!

Houses made of candles!!

Pages and receipts from artists daily life, painted white!!

...this guy!!!

Once we had explored enough of the Centre de Pompidou, we journeyed to our next destination... Veg Art, a vegan pizza place! (What?? Vegan? In Paris?). I was extremely excited and for good reason. The pizza was delicious -- especially the one with roasted chestnuts, potato and mushroom.

Yessss

The metro stop near the restaurant happened to be right in the Place de la Republique -- the square where many gathered in solidarity after the attacks. What we saw there was solemn, yet striking: The monument in the centre of the square had been decorated in posters, flags, photographs, flickering candles -- they were still being lit --, and other symbols of solidarity, resilience and peace in the wake of the tragic attacks just a month before. I took a single photo, wanting to remember the sight, but not wanting to be a tourist in someone else's tragedy.

                                                          

                                                               

We had a quiet night in after dinner, tired out from walking around and doing all of the stairs. But more stairs awaited us the next day as we made our way through the Montmartre neighbourhood to see Sacre Coeur and the various other sights around the neighbourhood.

In the morning, something wonderful happened.... I FINALLY found my coffee. Pictured: Red Starbucks cup, Moulin Rouge in the background. It's like, I don't even care that they called me Courtney. I willingly accept my new identity if it means I can get a proper morning coffee that is not for ants.

On the way to Montmartre, we also saw this beautiful Metro display based entirely around potatoes. This was something I felt I could really get behind, because potatoes are a very important part of my life.

Behold the glory of the potato

So wonderful, so delicious, so pure.

Potato displays aside, Montmartre was quite an interesting area, and we made our way past the Moulin Rouge and various "risque" shops and theatres, up cobblestone streets to Sacre Coeur.

The Moulin Rouge

Van Gogh lived here!

Another very old 'moulin'

Montmartre is just the cutest.

Sacre Coeur.. cropped just so that you can't see the 5000 tourists.

If Sacre Coeur weren't beautiful enough, directly in front of it was (wait for it...) ANOTHER amazing view! Paris is full of those. It helps that most of the buildings are very short so you can see almost all of the major landmarks from any given high point. There are some skyscrapers, but they're all in one area. It's like the city decided "Okay fine, you can build your skyscrapers.... just put them...right over...there..." *Points to tiny corner where all the other skyscrapers are huddled*.

Yep, right over there with the rest of them.

After that, we made our way to the Eiffel Tower -- I had seen it a few times since being here, as Katrina lives right within view of it. You can look out her bathroom window and see the top. But we hadn't really gone up close -- so we did. We braved the hordes of pigeons, other tourists and selfie-stick vendors and managed to get some lovely photos.

Always get someone holding a nice camera to take your photo. They know the angles.

We also grabbed some roasted chestnuts at the nearby Christmas Market (yes, another one) for part of our Christmas Day dinner. One of Katrina's Au Pair friends was also staying in town, so the three of us had a nice home-cooked meal.

These are dangerously addictive.

Sweet potato risotto. Meat stuff for meat eaters. Wine. More wine. Etc.

In the morning, it was time to say goodbye to Katrina and the lovely city she called home. 

I was glad to arrive back -- my camera filled with photos and my backpack filled with French cookies. Travelling is a humbling experience in a way. Nothing makes you feel like an idiot faster than fumbling your way through that first little while in an unfamiliar place. I think back to when I first arrived in England: starting a new job, finding a place to live, trying to be an adult, figuring out all the little details that made this place different from home. But you adjust and adapt. Given some time, almost anywhere can become home. Sometimes you need to be thrown off balance a little. Sometimes, you need to feel like an idiot. And sometimes, you need to eat French cookies -- and now is that time. Au revoir for now, friends!



C.